The Black Fox Flight
by Amalynne Olivier
Summary: “You are your father’s son, Harry,” Remus laughed lightly. “Reaching animagus… the process is difficult, most difficult.” There was a pause. “I need to,” Harry said firmly. “It’s my only chance… and hers.” Remus looked stern, “Amelie has her own path”
1. Exceptional

_Disclaimer: I Amalynne O'hara own nothing whatsoever, Rowling is the brilliance behind it all, and I am simply a wannabe teenager with writing as a hobby, thank you very much._

_Authors Note: This fic is a mix of many different themes, Post Half-blood Prince, summer before Harry's 7th year. Some themes and characters have bee carried over from my previous fic **The Ever Secret Diary of Sirius Black**, so you might notice some similarities ;). Hope you enjoy, hope the plot isn't as thick as pea soup to understand. -Amalynne O. _

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The corridor was long and dark and infinite. It always seemed that way, the never ending twist and turn of tunnels that consumed her thoughts. That's how it always was at night, the pressure of knowing what she would see even before she closed her eyes, the misty blue lights and the mist drifting in a haze before her… and then there were curtains that swayed in an eerie breeze… and then a darkened figure fell through them, landing in a limp heap in her arms… shrieks, and then silence. That was what she looked forward to every night.

Amelie-Elise Collier was one of the uniquely gifted specimens at the center, now seventeen with a chip on her shoulder and bitter feelings about her abilities. The needles and the poking, the cramped test centers, and goggling eyes, the constant observations, andnot a single moment of privacy. Amelie knew no privacy, it was a thought unheard to her, save for the evening, when she was confined to her cramped cubicle and left to dream of life beyond the stark white rooms of her existence… to dream of the blue lights and the corridors.

"She's extraordinary, have you seen the girl? Quite a phenomenon, I must say."

"Oh quite, quite extraordinary… are you thinking of moving her on, you know… for…"

The voices outside her cubicle became fainter, hushed tones, perhaps for fear she had developed keen hearing among other abilities, but she was already aware as to what they were saying. She had suspected it for a while. Their tests had proved nothing, which spurred greater interest. They could find no answers in the tubes of blood or the charts, nothing that explained the reasons why she could levitate midair in her sleep, why she could, it seemed, almost communicate with the canine specimens brought in to examine social interaction, and then it was almost as though-- but no, they hadn't admitted it to each other yet, but perhaps she could even read their thoughts. No scale or technological device could decipher the cause of her strange… qualities. These were the qualities, among many that Amelie Collier had grown to be ashamed of, ashamed of her uniqueness, for she had been hearing that she was the only _one_ in the facility.

Yes, they would be taking her away soon, where ever _away_ was. Nearly six years she had been here now, though it had seemed longer. There used to beclouds and trees and color beyond this blinding white gloom she lived in now, and there used to be people with faces that cared and smiled, and a bedroom with books and a cozy nook to sit and read in during winter, that is, until the letter. She had been exceptional her whole life, she had been told so many times, her mother was proud of it, yet… even things were visible, things that one could not dismiss.

"You are exceptional, and there are reasons," her mother would say in that soft honey voice that was so foggy now, her memory had been blurred by this place. So she was exceptional, and she hated it… this is what being exceptional had brought her to, a test specimen, not regarded as human… not like the days of her childhood when she was regarded as Amelie-Elise Collier Black.

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_**REVIEW REVIEW! Commentary is always appreciated. -Ama**_


	2. The Minister's Assistant

_Disclaimer: Rowling owns all the names and characters, I own nothing._

_Author's Note: I know this is somewhat slow going, but I really hope for it to pick up next chapter. Thank you all that reviewed :) -Ama_

_(oh and I'm apologize in advance for errors, this is what you'd call the "straight off the press" version)_

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"You're so much like him, in what he could do…"

"Don't go feeding her lies, Elise, false assumptions," the other voice said harshly, they sounded like women. "It's bad enough that he went and got himself—"

"Not now Mackenzie," the softer voice said sternly.

The voices were foggy, distant, misty wisps of memories that surfaced only briefly and slipped back into the blank white pools of dream… back to the blue lights and ghostly wavering curtains. Tonight though, was different, something had flashed momentarily behind the sheer black fabric… an emerald flash, and then her arms became heavy the weight of the figure who had fallen through. Sudden dream fog appeared where the man had been and the image was gone.

What was beyond those black wings that flapped in their own wind, and why was she on the other side of it? Why was she meant to catch the man? It had been her duty somehow, and somehow she had failed. She never had enough time to explore the depths of her thoughts. _They_ always intruded at the most inopportune of moments, flipping on the fluorescent lights overhead, blinding her for a momentarily and hoisting her from her cot as if she was incapable to do so herself. Then they started straight into the usual tests. If she was cooperative, she was fed.

Every morning she scoffed at the protein shakes set before her in tall intimidating glasses; it was like swallowing chalk and it tasted similar too, this was the "food" they rewarded the _exceptional_ girl.

There was no change; there were no days of excitement, of youthful bliss. She had been bound to this place so long and had not seen herself in the longest while. There were no mirrors for her to observe her self in. It had been six years since she had seen her reflection looking back at her. Her hair now hung long, thick and a darkest raven shade, to her waist… but she hardly cared. What use was it wondering what she looked like if there was nothing to be done about it?

Visitors were rare, if you could call them visitors at all, the stone faced observers in their white lab coats with badges that read dull boring names like Quirk, and Smythe, and Nelson. They all looked the same to her, lifeless eyed people with serious drooping mouths, checking away at their clipboards, and murmuring things to each other, always about her amazing progress. The murmurs had grown more excited recently, new visitors had come and they were preparing for something.

She had no idea that today would be the day, the day that the Minister's assistant would come to view the prodigy girl…

Today they flipped on the lights as rudely as was humanly possible like they had done everyday for six years, but there were not tests, no empty tubes to fill with blood, no chalk protein pitchers, just another surgically clean room where they forced her into the hot, sultry stream of a shower.

Today they were more meticulous than usual about her cleanliness, frothing her with soap and lathering her hair with shampoo of a floral essence. It was the first time in a long time that she could say she enjoyed something… the experience of a warm, relaxing shower.

It was the world's greatest disappointment when they pulled her out of the sultry steam and set about drying and dressing her, again, as though she could not do this on her own. Yet now she was used to it and put up no struggle. Another strange thing they set about to do next, they trimmed her hair, chopped off the end a bit and did something funny in the front that she could not see. She found the new fringes just grazing above her eyes somewhat irksome.

A devious looking metal object attacked her brows, plucking and poking, causing her eyes to water painfully. It seemed they were done now, ushering her out of her chair and leading her down the hall, flanked by two stern-looking white coats, to another room. It was a room that was plain and white just like the others, with a single door and one great window that gave her full view to the hallway. There was a stool set before the window and she assumed her position there, waiting.

The waiting was long and the walls blinding, so she closed her eyes and recalled the voices of the past.

"What is it mummy?" her own voice, young and high-pitched. "I don't understand it."

"It's a letter from that school we discussed… I went there myself, you know," the voice was light, filled with the mysticism of remembrance.

"Am- am I going then?"

"I should expect so, why shouldn't you?"

There was a pause. "Is this a special school?"

"Quite special," the voice was quick to answer, not wanting to give something away.

"How?"

"You will see when you get there." And that was all.

But there had been no special school as she had been promised, just as there had been no father. Even after the countless promises, her mother's empty lies, she had never seen this father. This was where she was now, this was where she would spend her days and she would never wonder again, because wondering and wishing only made it worse.

She drew her attention back to the present. There was a man standing before the great square window now, a black man, sharply dressed in a stately black suit, with a single golden hoop hanging from one ear. He looked official with two white coats at his side, murmuring things back to him every few seconds… he would nod knowingly and nod again, never saying anything, simply nodding.

Amelie blinked, she could not possibly have heard what they just said…

"Her abilities have developed much more than we'd expected," said one of the white coats with a name badge labeled "Vicks".

"This is one of our more… gifted cases, if you'd like to call it that. We had plans for her with the Minister…"

"Yes, I got the memo," the stately man said curtly, speaking for the first time.

"The Prime Minister had hinted that he would like to meet this case. I feel personally, the she is not ready… introverted, this one, violent, moody, impassive to some types stimulus. Some work needs to be done if we plan to use her abilities on an erm, larger scale."

The black man nodded knowingly.

"We had hoped," began the more timid of the two white coats, "that we could direct her for more… private use, that's if you understand the situation."

"I understand it," said the stately man. "Might I meet her?"

The white coats nodded, and fumbled with the keys as they bid the stately man entrance.

Amelie hardly had a moment to gather herself before the door creaked its way open, and the man stepped in.

"If you'd please follow me," he said in a deep smooth voice, lowering his tones, conscious of how his voice echoed against the walls. "There are some things I'd like to talk to you about."

It didn't quite register. _Talk?_ Someone wished to _talk_ to her? It frightening to realize that it had been six years since a true conversation and without a thought more, raised herself shakily from her stool and followed. She followed down the long corridor, down all the way to a place she had never seen before, an office that looked strangely human, most unlike anything else in the center.

There were two large blue arm chairs placed between a great mahogany desk, a potted plant with ferns rested on a shelf with a scattering of books, and sunlight filtered in through the blinds… the first rays she had seen in years.

She barely noticed when the door shut behind her with a _click_, and she was alone with this strange new figure with the hoop earring that gleamed against the chinks of light cast threw the blinds.

"Sit," he said, motioning towards one of the chairs.

She did as she was told, watching him motionlessly, as he placed himself behind the desk, and kicked his feet upon it, leaning back lazily.

"I thought this would be better for discussion, white rooms aren't my fancy… not yours either I suspect," he said conversationally. He looked at her a moment, as if waiting for her to say something. How could she possibly? She was still in shock, so she remained silent.

"Do you have name?" he asked in that deep languid voice.

The words seemed clotted in her throat, caught there, heavy like a brick somewhere in her vocal chords. Doubting herself, she pushed past the bricks and murmured her name.

"Amelie," her voice sounded strange to her ears, older than she had remembered it, yet musical… almost pleasant, so she continued. "Amelie Collier."

"Care to ask mine?" he asked with kindly smile.

Amelie shrugged, she had never thought to. Etiquette had been lost in this place.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt, Prime Minister's assistant… I'm sure you know why I'm here."

She shook her head.

"Use words, not motions," he urged her. "No nods or head bobs, I'd like _words_. I know you speak the language, and probably quite well if given a topic of your interest. So why am I here?"

She suddenly became hot and nervous, put on the spot, expected to speak and perform like they asked her to "perform" for their tests.

He read her countenance and said gently. "That's not what I'm hear for, go ahead, go ahead…"

"I- I'd been guessing, they… they want me for another project don't they? I don't care if they do… I- I'm sorry, I've forgotten how it feels…"

"What?" he asked her quietly.

"Having a voice," she said to the floor in the smallest whisper.

The corner of his mouth turned up in a half smile. "Well, Miss Collier, I am here to tell you that all your assumptions, thankfully, are wrong."

Amelie looked up abruptly. "What?"

"Yes, there are no tests waiting for you, no projects, you'll be coming with me."

"What? Where-- why, why am I? _What?"_ Again, it didn't register.

"The ability to levitate a glass of water in midair is not a human trait Miss Collier, the ability turn oneself invisible is not a human trait, a human cannot read the minds of their oppressors… a human cannot turn water into wine. I have read the charts, your files Miss Collier and these are traits not of a human, but of a witch, one that I'm sorry to say, has slipped our sight for too many years."

"Witch?" and then it made sense, of course it made sense. Her voice had come back strong. "All this time… and my mother, was she—"

"Elise Collier was a gifted witch herself, exceptional at transfiguration, much like your father," Shacklebolt said with his peculiar grin.

"You knew him then?" she asked hopefully.

"Briefly as I did, I knew him… he died bravely, I will tell you, most understood… but a good man," Shacklebolt said with a reverent head nod.

"Dead?" Amelie's voice came hoarsely.

"You had not known? Well, I don't suppose so… but he is the reason for your departure. His will has just recently been recovered, you co-own a piece of property with his godson… a long dizzying legal process that we will get to in time. But besides that fact, Miss Collier we are leaving immediately. Please save your questions, they will all be answered in due course."

This all had happened too quickly for her mind to even develop questions… it was all so fast, and unbelievable… the fact that she had been treated like a human shocked her most of all. Questions could wait for Amelie-Elise Collier, the world outside could not.

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**_Review Responses:_**

**_Hathor Valerious:_ Interesting? haha, well I hope I don't disappoint, thanx for the reivew :)**

**_Miss Minnie Black:_ Oh, merci ma cherie ;). What is she doing in that hospital? Well that's to be revealed next chap... I'm so flattered. This is my first attempt at a fanfiction that's not Marauders era, here goes (wish me luck).**

**_zippyfox:_ Oh so nice to hear from you girl, you're such a loyal reviewer, I love you so much! I'm not so good with detail usually so thanx for the comment... it's cool people like you that I write for.**

**_floro13:_ Ahh, my first reviewer, I commend you! Yeah... I haven't started to read any new bk6 fiction, I'm kind of nervous about attempting it actually, but well... so glad that you're liking it so far. **

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**Again, I always love reviews, so _REVIEW_... please... (imagine Sirius Black with puppy eyes, begging you to review)... not that _I'm_ begginggiggles ;) -Ama**


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